ed that I
should come back to Wellington on account of it being my last year. So
I'm here. I've not brought any new clothes with me, though, and I shall
have to be very economical."

Dorothy smiled bravely as she made this frank confession.

"Who cares whether your clothes are new of old, Dorothy?" came
impulsively from Jane. "It's having you here that counts. Nothing else
matters. I'm ever so sorry that your father has met with such
misfortune."

"Ah, yes! I too, have the sorrow that such bad luck has come to your
father. _We_ are the lucky ones, because you have come back to us,"
Adrienne agreed impressively.

"You're dears, both of you. Shake hands."

Her eyes eloquent with affection, Dorothy's hand went out to Jane, then
to Adrienne.

"We try to be like you, _ma chere_," was Adrienne's graceful response.

"That's very pretty, Imp," acknowledged Dorothy, flushing. "I'll have to
watch my step to merit that compliment. Now that you've heard the sad
story of the poverty-stricken senior, I call for a change of subject.
Did you know that Edith Hammond isn't coming back?"

"She isn't!"

Jane looked her surprise at this unexpected bit of news.

"No. Edith is going to be married," Dorothy informed. "She was
heart-whole and fancy-free when she left here last June. Then she went
with her family to the Catskills for the summer. She met her fate there;
a young civil engineer. They're to be married in November. She wrote me
a long letter right after she became betrothed. Later I received a card
announcing her engagement."

"I hope she'll be very happy," Jane spoke with evident sincerity. "I'm
so glad we grew to be friendly before college closed last June. It was
awfully awkward and embarrassing for us when we had to sit opposite
each other at this table three times a day without speaking."

Tardy recollection of the fact that there had also been a time when the
wires of communication were down between herself and Dorothy, caused a
tide of red to mount upward to Jane's forehead.

The eyes of the two girls meeting, both smiled. Each read the other's
thoughts. Such a catastrophe would not occur again.

"I wonder how many new girls there will be at the Hall," Dorothy glanced
curiously about the partially filled dining-room. "Let me see. We had
four graduates from Madison. Edith isn't coming back. That makes five
vacancies to be filled. Do you know of any others?"

The approach of a maid with a heavily laden breakfa